


Sherlock Holmes January Writing Challenge- Masterlist

by Bakerstreethound



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, I worked on these the beginning of 2020, Love, Mischief, Sherlock - Freeform, feel like ages ago, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27500605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakerstreethound/pseuds/Bakerstreethound
Summary: Contained here is a series of stories I wrote back in January for a writing challenge that I participated in. I hope you enjoy these *seventeen* stories with the one and only Sherlock Holmes and Co.
Relationships: Romantic Relationship - Relationship, Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Female reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader, Sherlock Holmes/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> You decide Sherlock needs a New Years Resolution, but he heartily thinks otherwise. 
> 
> Prompts: “I-I need you” and “Don’t bail on me and leave me to do the math, don’t do that.”

Waking up to a bleary-eyed Sherlock was the least of my concern. Sunlight had not yet filtered in through the foggy skies of London due to the blackout curtains I had been so insistent upon buying. At least they’re doing a fairly good job now, I thought, swinging my legs off the bed. I pulled away instantly as some jagged object forced its way into my foot. Shit, what the actual hell?

Beneath me syringes lay discarded so haphazardly, one would think the floor was a crime scene in and of itself. What the hell did we do last night? Were we that wasted?

Glancing over at Sherlock, I couldn’t fail to notice his absence of a shirt and everything else for that matter. The thought of the previous night instantly flooded my face with warmth. 

******

“This isn’t a good idea, Sherlock,” I protested, taking the precaution to lock our bedroom door. Mrs. Hudson had come upstairs just moments prior casting a gentle reminder Mycroft and Lestrade would be arriving shortly. 

His lips slowly formed into a devilish smirk. “And yet here you are with me with the door locked. We have time to spare.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“What, who says I can’t spend some extra time with you, my wife for that matter, during New Year’s Eve? You honestly think they’ll notice our absence?” his lips twitched. 

I scoffed, reaching out for his tie, pulling him towards me. Our chests collided. He carded his fingers through my unruly waves, making me groan in protest. I swatted at him playfully.

“How dare you think that? This is your flat and Mycroft invited everyone over, with my help, of course.”

Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to restrain himself. “Of course you did. Of course, you fucking did.”

“What, it’s not like anything would-”

In an instant, he pulled me close, the soft fabric of his violet shirt leading my thoughts astray. 

“On second thought Sherlock, I think we may have some time to spare.” 

******

“What the hell!” Sherlock’s outcry from the bedroom verified my suspicions. Just the reaction I had been expecting. Please let him be reasonable, I thought but it swiftly passed as soon as he stormed into the kitchen, planting himself, now fully clothed, between me and the cluttered island. 

“You. Where the fuck is my stuff?”

I took a moment to stir my coffee and pursed my lips in contemplation.

“Have you checked the fireplace, under your decorative skull, perhaps?”

“No, why would I unless I’m desperate? No one not even a normal person is that desperate,” he spat, stumbling towards the fireplace.

“Seems like it to me,” I mumbled, taking a slow sip.

“Shit, it’s not here either, woman!” 

Sighing, I proceeded with my cuppa into the living room and sat in Sherlock’s favorite chair. The faint smell of tobacco encompassed it along with his familiar scent. I smiled. 

“So you don’t remember telling me anything important last night, then?” 

Papers flew through the air, books toppled to the floor. Next thing gunshots will be firing, I grimaced. Sure enough, three blasts later, my husband was in front of me, prying the warm cup from my hands. 

“You better tell me where they are right now. Please, I-i need you.”

“Listen here, Mister Holmes. You do not speak to me in that manner. Since it’s a new year, you, yes you, Mister Holmes are going to get sober.” 

His eyes narrowed, undaunted by my threats. 

“But I-” he protested, his hands shaking in mine. “I-”

“Don’t you dare. What percent solution was it?”

Silence. 

I sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy. “I believe I asked you a question. What percent was it?”

“Two percent.”

I squeezed his hands tighter, the faintest whimper escaping his lips. 

“Don’t bail on me and leave me to do the math, don’t do that.” 

He threw up his hands in defeat. 

“It was a seven percent solution, for the love of all things leave me be, dammit!”

“Now, that didn’t have to be so hard, hmm? You better follow through because there will be consequences.”

“No more sex?”

A short spurt of anger coursed through my veins, bringing my hand up to smack the soft skin of my husband’s oh-so-perfect cheekbones.

He clasped his hand over his jaw, rubbing soothing circles around them. “Damn woman, was that really necessary?” 

I cast him a glare, unamused. “You deserved it, for all the hell you’ve put me through.”

“Oh fine, you win! Happy now? I just- can I at least request one more bottle?”

“No, Mister. We have a deal. I’m watching you and if you slip up even once, I will be sleeping upstairs in John’s old room. Don’t you be getting any ideas either. I mean it.”

His hands twitched. “But-”

“No butts, man child. Now off you go. Get cleaned up, then we’ll find you a case.”

“Fine. I’m only doing this for you.”

I crossed my arms, smirking. “You’ll thank me later.”


	2. Ashamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're ashamed to admit a little something to Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “I go to therapy because I want my problems sound good” and ”“So, we’re back to talking.”

Ever since I mentioned to Sherlock his resolution to get off drugs, he continued to run himself in circles, filling more of his days with cases. John was over more so now than ever, keeping watch as I left for work. If only he knew it wasn’t just work I was going to. We had been avoiding each other for days. His incessant wall shooting was plugging up my brain making me want to scream. I couldn’t stand being the voice of reason. I had to tell someone about my problems, someone who I wasn’t close with, a stranger perhaps. Now, I found myself standing on the porch of some elderly woman. Her figure was plump, her eyes wrinkled, but they were as warm as honey. 

“Come on in dearie,” she flashed a crooked smile, “I’m Pamela Jordan.”

“Lovely to meet you and such a charming house!”

“My husband bequeathed this estate to me when he passed. Now, do you fancy a cuppa before we begin?”

She lead me into a small sitting room, richly decorated with deep purples and blues. I settled for the plush purple sofa. 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

******

“And where the hell have you been?” Sherlock’s voice was clearly unamused as he opened the door. 

My lips formed a strained smile. “Figure it out yourself, you’re the genius.”

“So now we’re back to talking. Great!,” he grumbled plopping in his chair. 

“You really are a drama queen. For the love of God stop moping around and feeling sorry for yourself!”

“I’m not! Why would I when my wife is gone to God knows where and not even telling me! You make me sick, all this running away. Are you not happy here, with me?”

How could I feel so stupid? You have every right to feel stupid. Can’t you see you’re breaking him?

“Of course I’m happy with you, Sherl. It’s just, I have to go to therapy sometimes to sort out my problems, alright? Does that sound like a good enough explanation? Can you force that through your thick skull?”

His gaze remained unwavering, yet his eyes darted back and forth, his jaw tense.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ve just been ashamed to admit it so soon. You must hate me. God I’m so sorry.”

Without another word he was before me, enveloping me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine. An unspoken, yet solemn reply.


	3. Don't Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You eavesdrop on a conversation between Sherlock and the boys, which takes an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “You can’t ask, because then she’ll get mad because you had to ask.” and “You’ll have to figure out the issue yourself.”

“Where is she?” 

I groaned, vaguely hearing the murmuring voices coming from the flat. I hissed feeling a sharp pain jolt from my lower back, the apex of my thighs feeling so incredibly sore. Memories of the night before seemed to come in fragments, like splintered pieces of glass. My sore legs were the only indication of what had occurred, and I knew I was going to be teased. Last time I threatened to break husband dearest’s neck from all the snide comments he made in public trying to rile me up. I wouldn’t let it happen again anytime soon. 

The spot next to me on the bed was empty and I knew Sherlock had left for some important case he informed me of last night. Before things got out of hand.

Prove me wrong, why don’t you?

I’d like to see you try, Mrs. Holmes.

The floor was clear with the exception of a few clothes, most of which were remnants of Sherlock’s suit and purple shirt. I highly suspected he would wear the blue one today. I decided not to waste anymore time throwing my hair up in a simple pony tale and doing my go to outfit of a shirt and jeans. 

“You’ll have to figure out the issue yourself,” The whispers were getting louder by the moment. They continued as I went through my morning ritual, hastily brewing coffee. The divider between the kitchen and living room was up, but I could make out three, possibly four figures lurking. 

Probably just a case, I thought absentmindedly.

“She’s the issue, Mycroft. You can’t tell me she has that effect on me simply because of love.”

“You should tell that to the bite marks on her neck.”

Wait, did Mycroft actually come in and check on me? How long have I been out? I took another sip, settling down in a hidden corner. 

“Why the hell am I even here? I have nothing to do with this.”

“Of course you do, Greg,” Sherlock said incredulously. “You know I have to ask, she’s been acting strange for weeks.”

“What have your deductions been, Sherlock?”

John’s voice piqued up, “Sex. They’ve been having an outrageous amount this past week.”

“Oh do shut up, John.”

“You called us all here to discuss. I don’t see a problem. Especially if I’m the one who always just so happens to enter the room while you two are defiling your precious chair.”

“Oh, piss off, John. That’s a sensitive topic,” Lestrade butted in though I could tell he was amused. “In all seriousness, Sherlock, women are vexing creatures. You simply can’t ask, because then she’ll get mad because you had to ask.” 

Mycroft chimed in again. “What’s so wrong to be straightforward in asking if one is expecting? It’s not like it’s that complicated.”

“Actually,” John countered, “It is. I’ve been told many stories by expectant mothers how terrified or excited they were to break the news.”

“And are you certain she’s with child?” Greg spoke again. He seemed rather suspicious.

Subconsciously, my free hand slowly crawled down to cradle my stomach. I caught myself smiling. Surely I can’t be. It can’t be true, but then again Sherlock’s deductions could be true. Even though we’d been married a staggering two, coming up on three years, maybe the news wasn’t that surprising after all. 

Shaking my head, I poured the remnants of my coffee out into the sink, making my way towards the divider. It took me only one try to force it open.

“So I’m really that interesting of a topic, now am I?”

Sherlock flew out of his chair, grasping my arm tenderly, leading him to his signature chair. I held back a smirk. He was wearing the blue shirt, just as I suspected. John and Lestrade cast a small smile while Mycroft’s eyes bore into mine intently. 

“Indeed, is brother mine correct? Should we have a need to worry?”

I grinned. “A need to worry about our intimacy levels? Of course not.”

John choked back a laugh, fumbling with his notepad and pen. 

“You know, for a bunch of bright men, you all are very stupid.”

Sherlock squeezed my hand. “Then, please, tell us what’s wrong?” 

“For the love of it all, nothing is wrong. I-”

“Oh, I see, she’s just been going through the normal PMS symptoms,” Mycroft interrupted. “Sorry, do carry on. I don’t see why Sherlock had to freak out and phone us all here.”

“Well if you do want to make this excursion worth your time, perhaps I could ask a favor of you guys.” 

They all nodded in agreement, Sherlock interlocked his hand with mine, giving a squeeze of encouragement. 

“When the time comes…if it even comes, I want to ask if you would all be willing to be godparents to our child.”

Lestrade launched out of his seat, pressing his hands to my cheeks and giving them a peck. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’d be so damned happy!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile graced his lips and his glance filled my heart with warmth and understanding. 

“Well at this rate you’ll have a little hellion running around here in no time.” John smiled and Sherlock squeezed my hand tighter. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way even if Sherlock made such a wrong assumption. Sorry to bother you all. Could I at least tempt you all to stay for some lunch?” 

They all shouted in agreement, hurrying through the door, but Sherlock stayed, coming from behind resting his arms around my waist, pressing kisses down my neck. 

“Maybe John is right. At this rate, we’ll be parents in no time.”

I swatted him playfully. “Alright Mr. Holmes, enough of that. I promised lunch to those boys.”

“Then, I better have you out of there in no time to ravish my own special lunch,” he winked. 

“Bastard.”

“And yet, you love me.”


	4. Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're sick of Sherlock’s antics especially what he did on one particular case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some warnings but this part contains as follows: HIGH INTENSITY, slightly sadistic, Sherlock and reader are asses, angst, violence, threats, self doubt, a little whump, very chaotic.
> 
> Prompts: “Let’s go out, you said, it will be fun, you said.“ and “You and I have a very different definition of fun.“

“You really think I care what you think, you fucking bastard?” I yelled, my heart rate increasing by the minute. I was too pissed to care. Sherlock apparently had other ideas but I wanted no part of them. “Sometimes I wish I never met you. Life would’ve been so much better.” I raised my hand in frustration, continuing to pace in front of the fireplace. It was cluttered as per usual with a jumble of cases, but I was too peeved to care about any of my husband’s precious work. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, glued to his chair as he stared into space. “Just listen, please listen to me.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You don’t deserve me. Never have, never will. What the hell do you think I am?” 

“You’re my wife,” he replied coolly. 

“And you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Glad we’re even. It was just a case.”

I shook my head in disgust. “So now you tell me Janine was a part of it. An actress for you to seduce. God I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“It was supposed to be a joke. What’s not to understand?”

“Right like when you told me ‘let’s go out, you said, it will be fun, you said.’ Well, guess what, I don’t feel like having fun and it sure as hell wasn’t funny.” I huffed, resisting the urge to pry out my eyes. 

“John thought it was amusing.”

“Yeah, that you had a new girlfriend. What did you tell him? That you cheated on your wife?”

Sherlock pressed his hands closer together, his eyes drifting to John’s empty chair. “He knew it was for a case. Dammit woman, you and I have a very different definition of fun.”

“Clearly. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you and your so called fun. If you really loved me, you would have let me go by now.”

“…and that’s not the kind of gun I was expecting, he could’ve been…”

“Look at you, I really am just another game for you,” I spat bitterly. “One you can’t control or handle. So typical for your egotistical ass. Look at my trophy wife everyone, just another mystery of the ages,” I mocked, grasping his arm and making him stumble to the floor. 

“Please,” he was on his knees in front of me begging. “You don’t understand,” his jaw tensed, eyes boring into mine. 

“You know what,” I smirked, pulling out a kitchen knife from my boot. “Maybe I should finish you off myself for the last time, then I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His eyes narrowed, but a small whimper passed through his parted lips. 

“I can’t stand it when you make those noises. Do it again.” I inched the blade closer to his jugular, grazing his soft stubble. “I’m just a broken memory to you, you know that. None of this is fun, Sherlock. Nothing like you said. Fuck you.”

“Just be reasonable for once,” he begged.

“No I can’t. I never was yours. I will never be enough for you!”

“How did we fall like this, woman?”

“I don’t know don’t ask me,” I kneeled down behind him, whispering harshly into his ear. “If you really loved me you would let me go right here right now.” 

“Maybe I already have,” a smirk slowly formed on his face. Before I knew it, he had me pinned to the floor, straddling my hips, the blade I had moments before was aligned above my heart. I held back a shudder. 

“No. Please, Sherlock.” 

“We can work this out. There’s a better way, trust me. I’m not giving up,” he brought the blade lower. “I’m not giving up.” this time, a whisper against my lips. 

“Let me go. It will be alright Sherlock. It will be alright.”

“Nothing will be right until we’re gone,” he lowered it further, taking care to puncture at just the right moment. In an instant, gunshots ran through the flat and he crumbled on top of me, unconscious. My brain couldn’t register the crimson seeping from his back. The world swirled before me and calloused hands cupped my face gently, and I made out a few words.

“We’ve got you, we’ve got you. Everything is going to be alright.”

Lestrade. Lestrade was here. 

Cold metal clasped my wrists, dragging me into the dark, plummeting me into that pool of crimson before me.

“We’ve got you, we’ve got you,” the voice whispered once again. Lestrade had come.


	5. Shatter Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get pulled into an ethereal dream after a long day of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is the song Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling.

I pirouette in the dark. I see the stars through me. Tired mechanical heart. Beats til the song disappears. Somebody shine a light, I’m frozen by the fear in me. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me. So cut me from the line. Dizzy, spinning endlessly. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me! Shatter me! Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me! Shatter me! Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me!

It was another long day at work and all I wanted to do was collapse onto my cozy bed, wishing, hoping and praying that I could at least have some peaceful sleep. If only the clockworks could speak, I wouldn’t be so alone.

It wasn’t as if chasing multiple serial killers was easy, even if my husband solved them in two days. None of it mattered to me as I bolted through the door, not even bothering to shout so much as a hello to Mrs. Hudson, though she didn’t seem to mind one bit. Not sparing a glance to the main way through I made a beeline for my room. We burn every magnet and spring. The door slammed behind me and my feet gave out embracing the soft caress of the mattress. It seemed to shatter your body into a million pieces wrapped in its warmth. And spiral into the unknown.

“You’re home early.”

Somebody shine a light

I stiffened, worried for a moment you slipped into the wrong flat, until a pair of slender arms slipped around my waist, scooting me close to the warmth of a chest and thrumming heartbeat. I’m frozen by the fear in me.

I chuckled, surprised and delighted to find my beloved home early. 

“Miss me?”

“Eh, more or less, I suppose,“ he smirked.

“Would it be better if we continued the debauchery of your chair?” Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me!

Silence passed between us for a moment, as if reading my thoughts Sherlock threw the sheets off the bed haphazardly, pausing at the door. Without another word, I followed him into the living room, settling in his beloved chair. I inhaled the faint scent of tobacco and the overall aura of Sherlock. It was everything I could have hoped for falling into bliss. Everything around me was encompassed by the faint whispers of a melody. So cut me from the line. Dizzy, spinning endlessly. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me! Shatter me! Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me!

The faint wails of notes danced in my ears, pulling me out of my drifting thought into the present. Before me, was an angel, tall and ethereal. If I break the glass, then I’ll have to fly. There’s no one to catch me if I take a dive. I’m scared of changing, the days stay the same. The world is spinning but only in gray.

He stood rigid, but then his limbs moved almost as if a mechanical force controlled him, yet once his sapphires me mine, I could see the stars. It was him, the ghost of my husband, his ethereal beauty encompassed within the height of his cheekbones. His suit was immaculate solid white and black wings protruded from his back. He was an otherworldly being, awakening me with his ghostly melody.

Only you make me feel alive.

The notes spoke as they poured out from him, enveloping me in words his clockwork heart could not speak. He didn’t want to be alone and here he was, burning me from the inside.

If I break the glass, then I’ll have to fly. There’s no one to catch me if I take a dive. I’m scared of changing, the days stay the same. The world is spinning but only in gray (Only).

The wailing of the notes faded into bliss, his aura and presence shrouding me in peace and comfort, not a care in the world. The splintered pieces of my soul were taken away as he laid his instrument down, the illusion of the night fading as shadows cast over the moon in the sky. Into his arms I fell, bringing him to me, the warmth of his melody never wavering from my head My tormented soul was home at last. Somebody shine a light I’m frozen by the fear in me. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me. So cut me from the line. Dizzy, spinning endlessly. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me! Shatter me!

Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me!


	6. Happiest Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You surprise Sherlock with a birthday present. Yes, it contains some smut (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “For Your Entertainment” by Adam Lambert.

So hot out the box. Can you pick up the pace? Turn it up. Heat it up. I need to be entertained Push the limit, are you with it? Baby, don’t be afraid I’m a hurt ‘ya real good, baby.

Hell, I didn’t know how much longer he would stand the sight of me in the middle of his flat, draped across the couch like a damned Greek goddess. My tinted lips and darkened lashes turned towards him, the corners of my mouth edging on the verge of a smirk. 

“See something you like, boy?”

His gaze narrowed, eyeing you hungrily. My smirk turned into a feral smile as I stretched out, reclining my arms until they draped over the edge of the sofa, the soft tips of your fingers curling. I shifted your legs expertly, giving him a small glance at the slit towards the front of the dress.

Let’s go. It’s my show. Baby, do what I say. Don’t trip off the glitz that I’m gonna display. I told ya. I’m a hold ya down until you’re amazed. Give it to ya 'til you’re screaming my name.

I knew I had him when he resisted those incessant gears turning over in his mind, taking one more look at me..

He couldn’t ignore my supple skin and he had me countless times, but today he couldn’t help himself. He liked this a lot, so much he still denied it to himself. What the hell. 

To hot and way to fucking sexy for him.

No escaping when I start. Once I’m in I own your heart. There’s no way you’ll ring the alarm. So hold on until it’s over.

Unclasping his hands, he rose slowly from his chair, taking slow steady strides and before I had time to blink, he was before me wasting no time in lavishing my lips. 

“I want you to scream my name so loud that this whole fucking flat can hear that you’re mine.”

“Couldn’t take just the view anymore, Mister?”

Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I’m 'bout to do? Cause it’s about to get rough for you I’m here for your entertainment.

“I’ve seen all that I need to,” his lips parted drinking in the way my lips formed against his, the way my tongue begged for entry. After a few moments he granted access, gripping his hands around my waist tightly. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Holmes,” I sighed between rough open mouthed kisses he planted down my neck. 

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet 'Ya thought an angel swept you off ya feet. But I’m about to turn up the heat. I’m here for your entertainment.

“Speak for yourself. That dress is doing wonders.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair, earning a groan of satisfaction. “Maybe I should wear it more often.”

“I wouldn’t have to move out if that were the case.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

It’s alright, You’ll be fine. Baby, I’m in control. Take the pain. Take the pleasure. I’m the master of both. Close your eyes. Not your mind. Let me into your soul. I’m a work it 'til you’re totally blown

“Enough,” I sighed, grasping the lapels of his jacket, gently begging for him to rip it off he obliged, but not before pressing me deep into the sofa, jamming his knee between my legs. My breath hitched as he leaned down inhaling my scent. Heat pooled in my core as I waited anxiously for his touch, anything, but nothing came. My whimper snapped him into overdrive.

“Do that again, I love it when you make those noises. I want you to make them for me all night.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

No escaping when I start. Once I’m in I own your heart. There’s no way you’ll ring the alarm. So hold on until it’s over.

“All these things you’re daring me not to do. How could I not with you practically begging before me?”

“Stop talking, Detective and claim your birthday present. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

His pupils darted , blown out in lust and hunger. He had gone too long without me and he had some big plans and he would make sure I wouldn’t sleep for a very long while.

“Enjoying the view still?” I piqued squirming under him as he pressed his knee in further, earning another whimper from you.

“I’m just enjoying the show while it lasts.”

“How much you wanna bet I won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow?”

“I’ll be keeping you up until morning, there’s no question.”

Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I’m 'bout to do? 'Cause it’s about to get rough for you. I’m here for your entertainment.

Braving a glance at the clock, I swore silently as I came to the realization he was going to have me for over twelve hours. I knew I wouldn’t survive long. 

You’ve been preparing for this night for weeks, yet why should you be nervous? Just embrace it.

Without another word, you tugged at his violet shirt, earning a groan as you fumbled with the small intricate buttons. 

“You think you’d have enough experience with those by now,’ Sherlock half mumbled against me. “Next button will get tangled next time you-”

“Shut up, boy,” I growled, discarding it on the floor. I clawed you hands against his back, earning an appreciative growl. He bent down, his fingers ghosting over the sheer thin material of purple wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I sighed as his hands crawled up further, resting against the inner apex of your thighs. His thumb circling my clit gently. I bite back a moan. 

“See something entertaining? Gosh you’re such an angel, Holmes.”

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet. 'Ya thought an angel swept ya off your feet. Well I’m about to turn up the heat. I’m here for your entertainment.

“Don’t say anything. You are mine for the night.” 

The possessiveness wasn’t unusual between us, but today, he knew I was his present and he didn’t want to waste any time.

Oh oh. Oh oh. Entertainment. Oh oh… Oh entertainment. I’m here for your entertainment

“Get up,” The heat from his hands left my thighs, begging for their warmth once again. Once on our feet, he stood from behind, slowly brushing away hair from my exposed skin to reach the zipper. The cool breeze hit my skin, goosebumps exploding. I shivered, the rest of the dress pooling to the floor in a dramatic heap. 

Oooohhh. Do you like what you see? Wooooaaaahhhh. Let me entertain 'ya till you screeaaam. Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I’m 'bout to do? Cause it’s about to get rough for you. I’m here for your entertainment.

I hadn’t bothered wearing any shoes-or any lingerie- and in a matter of minutes I was shoved into the leather chair, Sherlock’s brow glistening with sweat, grunting with every thrust be bestowed upon my body, ravishing my neck, biting down. I moaned out his name as he became quickened his pace. My body was on the verge of combustion and he knew it with every breath pooling from my lips. Crashing his lips against mine, we both moaned as he filled me, breaking for a silent breath. Our foreheads touched and he grinned, pulling my naked body against his simmering core. “That was the best birthday and I have you to thank for it.” 

“Happy fucking birthday, Holmes.”

Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet (bet ya thought) 'Ya thought an angel swept ya off your feet. Well I’m about to turn up the heat (turn up the heat). I’m here for your entertainment.


	7. Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get distracted during your game with Mrs. Hudson after Sherlock joins in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Little Red Riding Hood” by Amanda Seyfried

Hey there little red riding hood. You sure are looking good. You’re everything a big bad wolf could want.

“Yes, I win! You can’t beat the pro, darling.” Mrs. Hudson cast a smug smile, as I rolled my eyes at her winning presumption.

“Fine, I let the Granny win. I admit defeat!”

Out of the blue, the door slammed, “John!” A boisterous voice filled the hallway. Mrs. Hudson stopped midway placing the tea on the table, eyeing her door. 

Little red riding hood. I don’t think little big girls should. Go walking in these spooky old woods alone.

“What do you suppose has him in such a frenzy?”

“Four serial killers, a suicide attempt maybe? You know how he gets,” I replied, helping myself to some Earl Grey. 

“Oh I already know. I’ve been his landlady longer than you two have been together.” 

What big eyes you have. The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad. Just to see that you don’t get chased. I think I oughta walk with you for a ways.

“What are you two up to?” Sherlock’s sonorous voice boomed throughout the small kitchen. I looked up, his gilded sapphires meeting mine. I was on fire. I took another sip of my drink before replying. 

“I find it pretty obvious. I mean, you always know what everyone is doing, my dear.”

He chuckled as he came up to me, pecking my cheek.

What full lips you have. They’re sure to lure someone bad. So until you get to Grandma’s place. I think you oughta walk with me and be safe. Gonna keep my sheep suit on. ‘Til I’m sure that you’ve been shown. That I can be trusted walking with you alone.

“Why don’t you join us for another round,” Mrs. Hudson offered, gesturing to the chair across from her. Sherlock obliged, scooting himself closer to me, our shoulders touching.

“Clue: The Classic Mystery Game,” he quaffed. “You two really think you can beat me? This is pointless. The probability of me winning is-”

The tip of my finger against his lips silenced him as I tossed an understanding smirk. “Just let us “ordinary” folk have some fun, shall we?”

Little red riding hood. I’d like to hold you if I could. But you might think I’m a big bad wolf so I won’t.

Mrs. Hudson chuckled, expertly sorting the thin paper cards and sorting the killer cards into their own secret envelope. “No cheating, loves.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Without warning, Sherlock’s right hand began massaging my left thigh, making me squirm, he smirked.

I try to keep satisfied. Just to walk close by your side. Maybe you’ll see things my way. ‘Fore we get to Grandma’s place.

Bastard, I mouthed as he inched up higher and higher. I was surprised he hadn’t won yet and I assumed it was on purpose. Typical of him. So obvious so…my breath hitched as his thumb circled my clit igniting the kindling further in my core. I bit back a moan.

“…guess is?”  
“Hmm? Right, yes,” I stammered, struggling to get my bearings. “I suspect Mrs. Peacock with the rope in the kitchen.”

“Oh that is a good one!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. My guess had baffled him. “Why the old lady? And with a rope how probable is it that…”

Mrs. Hudson piped in. “Us old folk do have handy ways of disposing of drugs and bodies. You’d be surprised how many the cartel smuggled…”

“Right, my turn then. It was obviously Professor Plum in the observatory with the pistol.” Sherlock leaned back, a smug smirk plastered on his face as he rubbed another circle. 

What a big heart I have. The better to love you with. Little red riding hood. Even bad wolves can be good.

My breaths got shallower by the minute. Mrs. Hudson was too caught up in her thoughts of a past life to even care as I shouted a farewell, making a beeline for the stairs. Before I even hit the landing of 221B, a force slammed me against the wall, knocking what little breath I had left out of me. 

Little red riding hood. You sure are looking good. You’re everything a big bad wolf could want.

“Not fair.”

“There’s no such thing as fair when the game is on.”

“Do I ever tell you you’re such a bastard?”

“Quite frequently, yes.” 

Little red riding hood. I don’t think little big girls should. Go walking in these spooky old woods alone.

Before he could so much as speak or insult me, I crashed your lips against his and he pressed further into the wall. I desperately hoped no holes would be made. Sherlock was stronger than he seemed, and I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t deny that or the way his hands caressing every inch my body, memorizing how I felt beneath him, clothing wrinkled. I loved the way he looked at me when the switch inside his head broke, letting loose his inhibitions. 

What big eyes you have. The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad. Just to see that you don’t get chased. I think I oughta walk with you for a ways.

“You’re insane, the things you do to me. Why?” he fell apart from me almost breathless, what heat we had surrounding us evaporating just as suddenly as it had come. My silent moans did nothing to hide the fact that something had happened between us. 

“It’s funny how marriage really does change you, you know.”

Sherlock nodded, fully aware of our appearance. “We should probably get back to the game. Mrs. Hudson has just finished making another batch of biscuits and tea.”

“Suppose she suspects anything?”

“Of course, you’re my wife. She knows the hold you have on me.”

“Well you know what happens when you antagonize me. Especially in front of her, and under the table, no less.”

“I’ll be sure to be more careful next time.”

My brow quirked. “You’re sure about that?”

“Oh yes.”

What full lips you have. They’re sure to lure someone bad. So until you get to Grandma’s place. I think you oughta walk with me and be safe.


	8. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds you distracting while wearing one of his old dress shirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “From where I stand, you’re like a turkey walking around the day before Thanksgiving…” “As in..?” and “Clueless and on the menu.”

“I told you for the thousandth time in no way will you convince me to go there. It’s bloody dangerous. You know how many times a dead body has been found in all those alleyways!” I mumbled, struggling to reach for the sugar on the high shelf. 

Sherlock said nothing, mearily silent as he sat in his chair, nonchalantly plucking on his violin’s strings. His face was blank, devoid of any and all emotion. He made no effort to help.

I swore silently as I heard the faintest rip of a seam in my outfit which consisted of nothing but an old dress shirt of Sherlock’s. Please don’t let him be mad, you thought over and over. It wasn’t like he ever even wore-

“Why must you be so distracting?” his voice whispered darkly in myear, his hands snaking around my waist, pulling me against his lean chest. “You know I hate distractions.”

I made no effort to disentangle myself from him. “I live here too, you know. You’re going to have to call Lestrade and have him file a restraining order.” This time, I finally managed to reach the sugar with the assistance of Sherlock, who just chuckled, tightening his grip. He bent down, nipping at the soft sensitive flesh of my ear lobe, which in turn, made me sucked in a breath at the sensation. His breath was soft, caressing my ear.

“Would you like to know what I was thinking as you were standing, here in the kitchen wearing an old shirt of mine?

A twinge of nervousness flooded my body, resisting the urge to fiddle with one of the shirt buttons. “No…”

“Oh, I think you would. You’re like a turkey walking around the day before Thanksgiving…”

“As in..?” 

“Clueless,” he whispered, biting down on my neck, releasing a moan from my lips. “And on the menu.” 

“Sherlock,” I murmured, thinking about nothing but the way his slender musician hands caressed my hips, how his tender lips melded against mine. “Please.”

Without another word, he spun around, not breaking contact until my bum was pressed against the kitchen island. I gasped at the impact of his lips the way his fingers began their descent into my already throbbing core. Waves of heat sparked, lighting the fire only he could ignite.

It was by some miracle my head cleared for a moment, remembering a remark John made a couple of days prior. 

“Sherlock,” I gasped, tone full of warning. His fingers paused in their agonizing torture, lips breaking apart. His eyes drank me in, relishing in the pleasure of seeing me undone by him. He had noticed the urgency in my voice and knew he had to listen.

“Room, now. Remember what happened last-”

Without another word, he released me and I squealed, making a beeline for our room, Sherlock falling swiftly behind. I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep, but it would be so worth it in the end.


	9. Because of an Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock asks you to help him with an experiment involving how many orgasms the average female can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “You started this horseshit, you don’t get to walk away from it.” and “Watch me.”

Holy shit.

I woke up to a numbing sensation between your legs, hot flashes and images blurring my mind as I almost rolled onto the floor. Sturdy arms reached out, pulling me next to a warm lean chest. I grinned despite the splitting headache.

“I’m going to bet your legs are numb and you passed out over four times,” Sherlock chuckled, his breath hot in my ear. 

“I lost the bet, didn’t I?”

“It was an experiment you agreed to.”

I groaned in exasperation, turning to face him, “You’re the one who started this horseshit. You don’t get to walk away from it.”

“Watch me,” he cast a smug grin, ripping the sheets back from the bed, his bare feet not flinching at the cold carpet below. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a very important case to get on with. How about you meet John and I for some chips?”

“You’re such a bastard. You have to finish the bet. It’s totally fine just walk away, unless…” my voice drifted and his eyes snapped, his pupils dilating.

“Unless…”

“You’re the smart one. How many more orgasms? Didn’t you say I could do six more in a row for you?”

Sherlock’s smirk widened even further, biting down ever so slightly on his lip. “Only I can ever make those sounds come from those lips of yours.”

“Admit it, you love them, but that still doesn’t answer my question,” I grumbled as I too, tossed off the sheets and rummaged through my wardrobe. 

“I love you more than that, you know it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine chips at three o’clock. Don’t be late.”


	10. Fish & Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're exasperated with a plan Sherlock and John have created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “This is the worst idea in the long sad history of bad ideas, and I am going to be there when you learn it” and “What makes you think this is a bad idea?”

Speedy’s Cafe wasn’t ever too busy at three o’clock in the afternoon. I had finished up some errands, foregoing the cab to stretch my aching joints and legs. I knew I would be screaming at myself for walking so much, but exercise wasn’t going to be an option. With Sherlock slowly accepting the fact he wasn’t going to get away with his drug resolution, he made sure I had one too. Walking, according to him would make me “faster,” therefore more “invaluable” while on a case. Completely absurd, but I relented. It was only fair, plus it would spur on his adrenaline if I offered some support. 

In a matter of moments, I was in front of Speedy’s lugging around a small tote bag full of new jeans and shirts which I couldn’t pass up. As I made my way to the back of the shop, I noticed it was eerily quiet, haunting even but I sat down anyways, feet sighing in relief.

“Christ, it’s chilly out there!” John’s unmistakable voice floated towards the table, making me smile. 

“If you were dressed in more appropriate attire, you wouldn’t be having this problem,” Sherlock countered, sliding in the chair next to me. “So glad you could join us for chips.”

“You’re not going to eat. Didn’t you say you had an important case?”

John chuckled. “Oh he told you that, now, did he? And I suppose,” he glared at Sherlock, “that he forgot to mention about paying Irene a visit.”

I snorted. “Irene, really? This is the worst idea in the long sad history of bad ideas.” 

“What makes you think this such a bad idea?” Sherlock whispered huskily, leaning towards me.

“Everything about it is bad and I’m going to be there when you learn that it is.” 

John smirked, lifting a questioning brow as took a sip of tea. “Now that I’m thinking about it, she shouldn’t come along.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed.

“I mean it. Having her,” John continued, pointing at me, “and Irene in the same room would be madness given your history with her.” 

Vatican cameos. Vatican fucking cameos. 

I could feel the rise of anger begin to simmer from inside me and I hastily picked up the menu and ran for the counter before I could say anything I would regret.

“At least you’re being more sensible than she is,” Sherlock mumbled as I returned with my order, slamming the food onto the table. The warm scent of fish and chips made my stomach growl greedily, but I needed answers. 

“Oh I am being sensible. I just don’t see why you have to see Irene when apparently it’s too dangerous for me to be in the same room with her given your “history” together. I don’t care what you think or say. I’m coming to see if you learned you lesson.”

Sherlock smirked, snatching my chip and plopping it in his mouth.“I haven’t even finished teaching you your lesson from last night.”

“Oi, I will pretend I didn’t hear that.,” John flinched, continuing to fumble with the menu.

I elbowed Sherlock. “Look, please stop bringing up our personal lives while he’s around.”

“We’re going to see Irene.”

John piped up. “There’s no use stopping him because…”

“The game is on!” Sherlock grinned and without another word, was bolting through the door, John at his heels. Dammit they left me with the bill again. What gentlemen, I groaned embracing the silence before savoring my meal. Perhaps I could catch them in time, just maybe. A sly smirk formed on my face. What if I did?


	11. His Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You follow Sherlock and John to an investigation in the aftermath of eating fish & chips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Fly on the Wall by Thousand Foot Krutch. “I can’t lie to her two times!” “Why not?” “Because I wouldn’t remember the first lie.” “Good job…you’re making this look totally normal.” “This is far from normal!” and “My point exactly.”

The other night I had a dream. There was a world full of kings and queens. But it was cold. Dark as the night. We were the fire on the moonlit skies. We weren’t divided We were the same. And we were free But we all wore chains. We couldn’t see it. But we created a place between truth and overrated. If I could just see it all. Just like a fly on the wall. Would I be able to accept what I can’t control? And would I share what I saw? Or just sit back and ignore. Like nothing never happened.

The streets of London were still particularly rainy and smog hung low I had still managed to scope out Sherlock and John’s steps after their hurried departure from lunch. I was slightly unhappy about paying for the bill, but it didn’t matter. At this moment, I was more concerned about Irene.

I haven’t seen you before? I’m on the run from a thief I let into my head. I know, I hold the keys, so don’t be scared. When I turn and shout. I don’t think I need you anymore. Take your words, and your lies and just beat it!. I don’t think I need you anymore. Take the hurt and the pain, I don’t need it!. I wanna live, I wanna be the change.

Irene.

That name made my skin crawl in the most vile of ways. Stupid, stupid Irene. You always baffle me and Sherlock admires you in an unfathomable way. Dwelling on such matters won’t do you any good right now, my brain hummed. Just focus, stupid, stupid girl. 

Fine fine fine. Now which way did they go? 

We can all be kings and queens. If we can just learn to believe. If we can just learn to believe. We had a plan to build a wall. A great divide that would never fall. To separate us from all the pain.

My phone buzzed and with barely a glance, chills rain down my spine, icy cold and prickly. 

I see you walking in the streets. You can’t see me. 

What the actual hell. I trudged through the streets, following the blue dot pulsing on my phone until it stopped in front of a marble house. Grecian columns supported the façade of the house-if one could all it that. It was, rather, an enormous mansion- an elegant monstrosity of stone trim and marble pillars. A hundred glass windows glimmered, sparkling from the afternoon drizzle, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Parthenon.

And keep our skeletons locked away. And brick by brick we built it so thick. That it blacked out the sky and all the sunlight. And one by one we all became numb. We were making the bullets to a broken gun. If I could just see it all. Just like a fly on the wall. 

Show off, I thought coldly, not at all surprised she wanted to display her wealth as much as her services. My mind drifted remembering the advertisements Sherlock had John print out. I forced down the bile crawling slowly up my throat. 

You can do this, it’s just another case. It’s for a case. Nothing more. 

I could hear distinct chattering of John’s voice fluttering through the air. He seemed pissed off, as if he were trying to explain something to an incompetint child. 

Would I be able to accept what I can’t control? And would I share what I saw? Or just sit back and ignore. Like nothing never happened And I haven’t seen you before?

“You have to be reasonable you brought yourself here.”

“Only because she invited me,” came Sherlock’s gruff reply.

“No it was because she knew you would fall for another scheme. This is outrageous. Why don’t you just tell her. Don’t go around her like this anymore.” 

“You know I can’t do that to her. I can’t lie to her two times!”

“Yes, it’s wrong, but this may be the only way you can get through to her, so why not?”

“Because I wouldn’t remember the first lie. Wait, are you agreeing with me now?”

“I- I can’t even talk to you anymore. I honestly don’t know anymore,” John eased himself off of the plush slate couch. “Go ahead and screw this up for all I care, but I don’t want anyone dead on my account that I tried to give you some advice be it good or bad.”

Sherlock blew out a puff of air, signaling his frustration. 

I’m on the run from a thief I let into my head. I know, I hold the keys, so don’t be scared. When I turn and shout. I don’t think I need you anymore.

Why the hell was he even here? Irene. Damnit. It was always her. 

The moments ticked on, ten minutes trudged slowly to eleven. That’s when I heard footsteps shuffling across the floor, the door slamming shut. 

John.

I felt the tension pulling between us, taut as a bow string. His tongue was tied. He knew I’d heard every little word, every lie. 

Take your words, and your lies and just beat it! I don’t think I need you anymore. Take the hurt and the pain, I don’t need it. I wanna live, I wanna be the change. 

“I-”

“Don’t there’s no need to say anything.” my throat forced down a cry of agony as I supported my back against the wall. 

“If you would just listen-”

“John whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. He doesn’t need me anymore. While we’re at it he can have this,” I expertly wrenched the diamond ring off my finger, looking away from him. 

“I would advise you not to do that.”

“You don’t understand the situation,” I groaned. “It’s just a case.” Yet why does this storm cloud keep following? 

“Ha some reassurance you are. Good job…you’re making this situation look totally normal.”

“Christ why must you be so stubborn? He’s my husband out on a case how is this far from normal?”

“My point exactly. You’re his wife, always assuming the best of him. You always turn a blind eye to his faults, glorifying him like the press.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. It won’t stop me from doing this,” I reached for the doorknob, turning it to the left then right. All clear. 

John hissed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he bolted towards me, clasping his hand around my wrist. “Don’t worry John. He made his choice long ago.”

We can all be kings and queens. If we can just learn to believe. If we can just learn to believe. I don’t think I need you anymore. Take your words, and your lies and just beat it! I don’t think I need you anymore. Take the hurt and the pain, I don’t need it! I wanna live, I wanna be the change. We can all be kings and queens. If we can just learn to believe. If we can just learn to believe.


	12. Her Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally figure out Sherlock’s true intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hold my Heart by Lindsey Stirling

Don’t need a hero to save me. I’m not a girl to set free. It’s nothing you did to me. I’ve always been this way. I might be strong, I might be weak.

“Leave,” his voice had never seemed so cold. He’d know I was there all along and followed him right into Irene’s pampered haven. 

“You made a choice Sherlock,” my throat clenched, filled with rage and dread. Slick heat pooled from the inside of my being, molten lava inside my chest. “You swore it, your vow. It means nothing to me. Not now, not ever. How could you?” 

“I can’t explain any of this.”

There might be a part of me that I won’t let you keep. Been on this road, and come this far. I don’t need a man to hold my hand. I just want one to hold my heart.

“How could you, anyways. It’s not like I wouldn’t figure it out sooner or later. You have the perfect woman sprawled across your lap-naked- for that matter and where does that leave me? A useless wife discarded, shamed by the only one she truly opened her heart to?”

John was right, this was far from normal. I had been so stupid, so utterly blind. He’ll get bored one day and he’ll go off like a ticking bomb, leaving you with nothing. It’s only a matter of time. Mark my words. 

“Don’t say another word. You tangled yourself in this goddamn mess and you better fix it. I don’t care if this ends in divorce, but I will leave you, you lying bastard!” My hands shook uncontrollably, my whole body quivered with emotion. Pure hatred burned inside me, a volcano on the verge of exploding. 

Don’t be afraid to hold this. Even the thorns have roses. I know I can stand alone. But I can’t love on my own.

“This would be much easier if you listened. Be logical about this.”

“Yeah be logical you say, let who is the one mugging on another woman. The Woman for Christ’s sake. I thought you’d hold yourself up to a higher standard.”

“What, like you’re any better?”

“Yes and maybe you should appreciate it, but obviously,” I gestured to his current position, “you don’t.”

Silence passed between us, threads of unease and tension weaving throughout the room. My stomach coiled, nausea building.

I might be strong, I might be weak. There might be a part of me that I won’t let you keep. Been on this road, and come this far. I don’t need a man to hold my hand. I just want one to hold my heart.

“My my, what’s got the two of you riled up?”

Damn you Irene.

Her figure was perfect, hell everything about her was flawless. So goddamn fucking perfect. 

Something within me snapped, an unleashed beast. Without a second thought, I bolted, knocking the back of Irene’s knees, a satisfying crack resounding in the air as her head bashed against the marble floors. My mind was on fire, nothing could stop me. 

Want you to, want you to hold my heart. Want you to, want you to.

“What the hell, stop. Damnit, stop!” John’s voice was lost in the roaring behind my ears, each thrust of Irene’s head on the floor swooshed with a resounding crack, coating my hands in her crimson blood. I grinned wickedly, all rationality gone from my mind.

Want you to, want you to, want you to. Want you to hold my heart.

“Stop,” Sherlock’s voice held warning. Before I could think of anything else, something within me gave way numbness filling my being, the darkness welcoming me in its arms. 

I might be strong, I might be weak. There might be a part of me that I won’t let you keep. Been on this road, and come this far. I don’t need a man to hold my hand. I just want one to hold my heart.


	13. Our Duet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sherlock slowly try to come to terms with the events that transpired in “Her Heart” and begin mending a road bump in your relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “I wanna hear this…how’s my singing?” and “Trust me, you don’t want to hear the answer.”

I woke up in a haze. Shadows passed back and forth, clouding your vision. Nothing made any sense. Every time I closed my eyes I felt the sharp jab of a needle, followed by a breathless sigh. It didn’t feel right floating in oblivion like this. It was a jostle which woke me and even now I couldn’t decipher if I was in another hollow dream. I heard the breath of a person coming up to knock on my door, but I dare not move from my fetal position. A dark shiver made its way down my spine. Everything hurt and I were not in the mood for any games. Thinking better of myself, I swung my legs out of the soft layers on top of me, not even bothering about my appearance. Hell with it all. It didn’t matter if there was a bastard in my way I would pull through and stand strong as I always did. 

My feet padded against the familiar tiles of the kitchen, and I didn’t bother turning on the light. Braving a glance at the window, I noticed the dappled fading of light- twilight on the horizon. My stomach grumble in fury, reminding me of the actual reason I drug my happy ass out of my warm cocoon. 

Salad, yes salad would be quick and easy, gone in a flash. Maybe I could settle for some carrots, who knows what the hell they’ve put me through. I quickly made way to the fridge, surprised carrots were even an option, but once I made it back to the counter, a flash of metal glinted before my eyes. 

One glance was all it took, my brain snapping and rewiring back to that night. His choice his bloody damned choice that was holding our marriage by a thread. I backed away from the counter with slow calculating steps, that was until, I collided with something-rather someone-solid. 

“How much longer are we going around like this?” Sherlock’s baritone rumbled lowly, reaching my sensitive ears. 

“When you stop being a fool and stop chasing after Irene everytime she tempts you. The least you could do is resist her.” 

“You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” my brow quirked. “I’m trying to protect what is mine.”

He spun me around, a shadow of a smirk ghosting his face. His breath was shallow, gentle. My heart leapt erratically as he swiftly grasped my wrist, pressing down.

“Mhm so you are jealous and possessive. Explains why your heart rate increased and you pupils dilated along with a slight flush to your cheeks. Not so subtle.”

“No. You’re wrong,” I retorted. 

“And you are mine.”

My mind and body lost all reason, bolting forward to capture his lips. He welcomed me eagerly, gingerly wrapped a hand around my long neck, tilting up to bring me in deeper. It was full of hunger and desperation, but a cause worth fighting for. 

I hummed sadly, breaking away for much needed air, gazing at him through long lashes. “Mr. Holmes, I wanna hear this…how’s my singing?”

He scoffed, baffled at the question, yet he knew it wasn’t just the sedative talking. He always knew the meaning, could decipher any word falling from my lips. 

A wide smirk crossed his face knowingly. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to hear the answer.”

I huffed in frustration. “But maybe I do.”

“It’ll end up with you screaming my name.”

“Make me, Mister. Holmes.”


	14. One Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're not pleased that Sherlock has to go one a mission at the insistence of his brother, Mycroft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “Did you just shush me?” “You talk too much.” “If you leave them alone, I’ll come with you.” “You’re so naive. The world doesn’t work like that.” “Stop talking to the horse!” He understands me, unlike you!” “Seriously?” Star Sky by Two Steps From Hell and That’s What The Wise Lady Said by Angtoria.

Here we are. Riding the sky. Painting the night with sun. You and I, Mirrors of light. Twin flames of fire. Lit in another time and place. I wish you could be. All you ever dreamed. Move on, no regrets. Try to be the absolute best. 

“Sherlock,” I moaned, his hands trailing dangerously up my thighs as I dangled, back pressed against the wall. “When you said you would do this I didn’t think..”

“Shh,” he warned, his tongue trailing the opening of my lips. 

I knew your name. I knew your face. Your love and grace. Past and present now embrace. Worlds collide in inner space. Unstoppable, the song we play. Burn the page for me. Stand on your own. You can make it, be someone. Win the war in your head. That’s what the wise lady said!

“Did you just shush me?”

He thrust his tongue in my mouth, but I could feel the smirk on his lips as I pressed back. 

“You talk too much so not my problem.”

I gasped, pulling away for so much needed air.

“I’ll tell you it’s my problem because Mycroft is sending you away without so much as an explanation!”

I cannot erase the time of sleep. I cannot be loved so set me free. I cannot deliver your love. Or caress your soul so turn that page for me. I cannot embrace the touch that you give. I cannot find solace in your words. I cannot deliver you your love or caress your soul. There’ll be times when you can’t face the weary lights of day. But be strong and believe. You can be anything you wish to be. Age to age. I feel the call. Memory of future dreams. You and I, riding the sky. Keeping the fire bright. From another time and place.

“The only explanation is disbanding another network. It won’t take too long,” he quirked a brow before pecking my cheek. 

“ Don’t you have anything better to do than this? If you leave them alone, I’ll come with you.”

“You’re so naïve. The world doesn’t work like that,” he chuckled, pressing a knee between my legs. “Lestrade and John will work with Mycroft to sort Irene’s acts.” 

“Well the world doesn’t care that I despise Irene with everything that I am. Can you leave me in peace?”

I know your name. I know your face. Your touch and grace. All of time can not erase. What our hearts remember stays. Forever on a song we play. Burn the page for me. Don´t let your fears hold you back. Life’s not meant to be easy. Find justice for what you lack.

Sherlock whispered a hair’s breadth from my lips. “I thought you wanted me to see if you could scream my name.” 

“Something along those lines sounds about right,” I gulped, heart rate increasing. 

“Before we make up some promises, let me get myself situated, and we can turn on the telly while we discuss. What you want to watch that witch show?” he broke apart so suddenly, leaving me to grasp the wall for support.

I cannot erase the time of sleep. I cannot be loved so set me free. I cannot deliver your love or caress your soul so turn that page for me. I cannot embrace the touch that you give. I cannot find solace in your words. I cannot deliver you your love or caress your soul. 

I smirked, gathering my bearings. “Come on Sherl, the horse is the best part.”

“Please stop talking to and about the horse! Not necessary.”

“He understands me, unlike you, boy.”

“Seriously? But would he understand how to make those sounds you do as I prey on you? Would he know all the things you beg for? Does he know every inch of your body, every spot that makes you quiver with desire?”

I whimpered. I couldn’t deny a word he spoke. 

Sherlock stepped back, smirking. “That’s what I thought.”

“B-but you will stay at me at least, just for awhile longer tonight, yes? I don’t think Mycroft wants you until morning.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I will hold you up to your end of the deal.”

And he sure as hell would. 

Time will heal the scars. Be proud of who you are. Taste the phantasies that you dread. That’s what the wise lady said! I came from nothing—here I am I won the war in my head!


	15. Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggle to ignore Sherlock after he comes back from his week long mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “Ohhohoo, you really messed up this time. “I know I didn’t think I could die twice! Apparently. I can.” “What the hell happened to you?” “Would you believe if I told you, I got run over by a wood grouse, stumbled in a rosebush fill of thorns and was sprayed by a skunk?” “Rough day, eh?” and Ain’t Gonna Drown by Elle King.

Train’s coming but I’m stuck on this road. Moon’s rising and my blood is growing cold. Preacher man can’t save a soul like mine. Miracles are just too damn hard to find. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. ‘Cause the good Lord ain’t bringing me home. 

Mycroft said everything is patched up now, taxi should be there in about twenty minutes.

My stomach turned, flip flopping inside and out. I swore my heart pounded, feeling every cell inside quivering just at the thought of his voice. All those messages I sent all those weeks while he was away flashed through my mind, unsure how many promises I was willing to fulfill or keep. My side of the bargain wasn’t at all complete. Seconds turned to minutes as I began to pace the floor; no amount of reading could distract my racing mind. It was in overdrive. It finally settled down enough after a few breaths, the faint dusk of the city shrouding the sky. Shadows danced around the room as I took out a few slips of paper remembering some unfinished business that still needed to be handled. 

To hell with it all I grumbled internally, furiously scribbling across the page, pen marks blotted with my less than elegant scrawl. 

“Mmm so you are here alone. John must be out and about with Mary. It is date night, isn’t it. That must mean Rosie is with Molly.” 

The overwhelming scent of tobacco and old firewood tickled my nostrils and I held my resolve, scribbling away, daring not looking up. His heavy footsteps drew softer and I knew he had stopped behind the desk chair.

I’m bound for the broken promise land to meet my demons and get back my upper hand. Long man can’t catch a soul like mine. Miracles are just too damn hard to find. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. 'Cause the good Lord ain’t bringing me home. 

“My my it’s been weeks since I’ve seen you this anxious. Is it work again? That boss of yours is pretentious. You should’ve worked for me when I offered.”

“That was one time,” I mumbled, crossing a t with a flourish.

“Ooo but what the hell happened to you? I never miss the details. Enlighten me.”

“ Don’t feel like disclosing anything to you at the moment.”

Sherlock’s deep baritone chuckled in merriment. “Ohhohoo, you really messed up this time. This is a good one.”

“I know!” I yelped, flinging the pen across the room. “I didn’t think I could die twice! Apparently, I can.”

Sherlock’s lip quirked in anticipation as he darted across the room, retrieving my discarded utensil. 

“Rough day, eh?”

I grumbled in reply. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His smirk broke through in full force as I turned away, but I could hear his faint pacing from behind. .

“You already know the answer.”

Long man can’t catch a soul like mine. Miracles are just too damn hard to find.

“Would you believe if I told you, I got run over by a wood grouse, stumbled in a rosebush full of thorns and was sprayed by a skunk?” I muttered, sarcasm dripping with each syllable. 

He leaned in closer, breath heaving, hot in my ear. It took all of my resolve not to squirm. 

“Hmm and I bet you just couldn’t wait to come home and ignore me.”

I shifted in my seat, suddenly overcome with throbbing pain in my chest. I had missed him so much the ache almost unbearable. Why continue this torture when the body wants so much more. Fuck it.

“Mister Holmes, I missed you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Ever the romantic aren’t we, Mrs. Holmes. You haven’t even welcomed me home properly. Perhaps we should take out frivolities elsewhere provided I don’t get sent away again so soon.”

“You better fucking stay awhile. Next time Mycroft come ringing I will strangle him.”

Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. Ain’t gonna drown in the water. 'Cause the good Lord ain’t bringing me home


	16. The Price You Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sherlock catch up on the events that occurred during his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Why did you stop here?” “Didn’t you pull me over?”“…Did I?” “Are you part of the plan?” “I don’t want to cause any trouble.” “What a horrible way to live.” “Well, that’s just maddeningly unhelpful. Why are these things never clear?” “What’s going on?” “I have no idea, ask them.” Natural by Imagine Dragons and What I Miss Most by Calum Scott

It must have been a year since. I was thrown across an ocean far from home. Will you hold the line. When every one of them has given up and given in, tell me. In this house of mine. Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me. Will the stars align? And I was making oceans. Riding in between the highs and lows.

“I swear Mycroft is a pain in the arse,” Sherlock mused, as I ruffled his hair. Being in his arms again was yet another luxury I couldn’t take for granted. I had been in bed for little over forty minutes, clinging to him like a lifeline. He had made me beg enough times, my tattered shirt ruffled from previous advances. 

Sherlock groaned audibly as his phone chimed. I inched closer, resting your head against his right shoulder. “What’s going on?” I muttered, tired of the delays. 

“I have no idea, ask them.”

Ooh, when I wake in the morning will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin? Will it? ‘Cause this house of mine stands strong. Ooh, it’s the first on my mind. 

Sherlock held his phone up, his screen revealing John and Mary smiling alongside Molly and a mysterious man.

“That’s odd, I didn’t think Molly mentioned having a beau.”

Maybe what I miss most. It wasn’t made of steel and stones. That’s the price you pay. And maybe what I miss most. Leave behind you heart and cast away. It wasn’t born of skin and bone. Under the sun, up on the waves. Just another product of today. Rather be the hunter than the prey. Under three climbs when I’m far away and you’re standing on the edge, face up 'cause you’re maybe what I miss most.

“She should’ve given up as I suggested. There’s a seventy five percent probability he’s a psychopath like Moriarty…” he broke off, eyes darting like bullets and he pulled me closer, his warmth radiating. “Wait, you said Molly never mentioned having a lover. That means you did see her while I was gone.” 

“So what if I did?”

Natural. A beating heart of stone and maybe you’ll never know. You gotta be so cold. To make it in this world. And maybe you’ll never know. Yeah, you’re a natural, life beyond the window. Living your life cutthroat, I’m jealous of the way the black bird flies. You gotta be so cold, free among the people.Yeah, you’re a natural. Those quarter million stories pass me by. 

“You were in close proximity to her and women like to talk about men who fancy them.”

“She mentioned this guy she briefly talked to at a pub..” I droned on, probing my mind for any helpful information that occurred in the two weeks of his absence. “She said he worked at a bookstore.

“Well, that’s just maddenly unhelpful.”

“I don’t think this is something that needs to be discussed right now, Sherl.”

“Why, why are these things never clear?”

What’s happening? Ooh, lie awake in the moonlight I. Looking through the glass find the wrong within the past knowing. Ooh, it’s the last on my mind. Oh, we are the youth. And maybe what I miss most, it wasn’t made of steel and stone. Cut until it bleeds inside a world, without the peace, face it. And maybe what I miss most, it wasn’t born of skin and bone. Under the sun, above the waves. Under three climbs and I’m far away, maybe what I miss most. A bit of the truth, the truth.

“You and that brilliant mind of yours. I should’ve told Mycroft to let me tag along next time. He knows about your resolution. He says you’ve only drited four times.”

“It was two and a half!”

“Still, two and a half days without having me in bed, husband dear.”

“Oh you want to bet on that, Mrs. Holmes. You’re the one who dared ignore me when I walked through that door. Or was it twenty minutes before you decided composing that letter, implying you had ‘work’ to do?”

Under three climbs and I’m far away. Will somebody let me see the light within the dark trees’ shadowing. Maybe what I miss most and maybe you’ll never know.

I squirmed against his iron grip.

“I thought so,” he purred. “Aren’t you part of the plan? Always getting my mind distracted?”

“I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to cause any trouble.” merriment and desire graced his features, melding into the shadows of the darkened room.

I remember at the table, Deep inside me, I’m fading to black. All those faces, where did they go? I’m fading. I imagine how it looks like when I’m not there.

I sighed. “What a horrible way to live. Trouble is in your blood, William.”

“I detest that name.”

“And what are you going to do about it, hmm? Fuck me into oblivion?”

******

“Why did you stop here?” I protested a whine on the verge of escaping my lips. 

“My wife needs to learn teasing can only get her so far. Didn’t you pull me over?”

I snagged the front of his shirt, the material balling in my palm “I don’t know…did I?” I smirked, bringing up a free hand, tugging harshly on his loose curls. 

His hips bucked into me and I obliged, skillfully wrapping my legs around his waist.

“Did I ever tell you that your deductions are what get me started almost every damn time?”

All he offered was a grimace before pulling me close to his searing skin, his lean chest colliding with my own soft flesh.  
“Dammit.” he hissed. “Get this off now.” gesturing to his buttoned short, I smirked expertly unclasping buttons, careful not to rip the thin material keeping us only millimeters apart. 

“Hmm and they say Sherlock has no such thing for carnal desires. Wonder what they would think of us now that we’re….”

I remember, every summer. But now that years are just a number. Took an oath by the blood of my hand, won’t break it. There’s no backwards. 

“Shut up,” his eyes were blown wide as he anxiously discarded his shirt. 

I bite my lip, daring to grind my hips along his prominent bulge. “Better make me, husband. Or I can make you.” 

Without as much as a word, he tugged my hair back softly, earning an appreciative moan. 

“There she is, oh you’ve missed this as much as I, haven’t you?” 

“Sherl, please,” I begged, hit with wave after wave of desire. He hadn’t even begun the worst of it. When he did, it was if the night had no end or beginning, we were one once again, untarnished, yet broken. Unbreakable, yet shattered as the glass prisons of our hearts. We were one, unbridled, triumphant, claiming each other cradled in the shadows of night. 

I can taste it, the end is upon us, I swear. Time is faster with everything I’ve left behind, oh. And maybe you’ll never know.


	17. Compliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sherlock makeup, but you ensure that he knows just how many times he's broken your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “It’s broken.” “Yes, I know it’s broken! Why is it broken?” “I don’t know.” Far from Home (The Raven) by Sam Tinnesz and Heart of a Hero by Club Danger
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Through the night blind and the dark days. My heart it never gets tired. I come alive. When it’s do or die. Bravery’s my instinct. To run into the face of the fire. A sacrifice to save a life.

“Sherlock, is everything alright?” I groaned as stretched easing out of bed, but stopped as I was greeted by my husband who was standing in the frame of the door leading to the adjoining bathroom. 

A bleary gaze locked into my eyes, hands shaking by his sides. Small puncture marks burned red, blood streaming and caressing the back of his knuckles. 

Tears pooled in his eyes. “It’s broken.” he finally managed to croak, his usual rigid posture slumped against the frame. 

I’m sending a raven. Black bird in the sky sending a signal that I’m here. Some sign of life. I’m sending a message of feathers and bone. Just let me know I’m not forgotten out here alone. 

Ever so carefully I planted my feet to the floor, rushing to his side in an instant, cradling his chiseled face in my small hands. “I don’t think they’re broken, my love.”

“It’s broken,” he mumbled again. I brushed the corner of his lip gently before he pressed a cold hand against my chest. “It’s bloody broken.”

“Yes, I know it’s broken! My heart breaks to see you like this. Why do you keep doing this? Why is it broken?”

He choked on a sob, his sapphires gazing into my eyes, a lost hopeless child. “I don’t know.” 

I leaned into him, bringing an arm around his waist. “Maybe I can help you ease some of the pain away. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Oh oh. It’s in my blood. Oh oh. The air is cold the night is long. I feel like I might fade into the dawn, fade until I’m gone. 

Sherlock nodded, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck.

“I’ll take care of you if you promise to be a good boy. You can do that for me, isn’t that right?”

He nipped me playfully. “Only if I want to be.”

I got the heart of a hero. Unbreakable. Unshakeable. Hero. Not holding back any longer. I’m stronger. I got the heart of a hero.

“Mmm now you’re being the fiesty one, “ I smirked, closing the remaining space between us. Sherlock groaned as I pressed against him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pushing against him harder until he knocked against the foot of the bed.

“Careful there or we’ll have to get a new frame,” a ghost of a smile graced his lips before quirking a brow.

Ooh… I’m so far from home, so far from home Ooh… Not where I belong, not where I belong. Ooh…. I’m so far from home, so far from home.

All I could muster was a mumbled “bastard” before he was beneath me, my legs straddling his waist. Before I could as much utter another word, a hand slipped underneath my underwear, tugging greedily.

“You better get these damned things off.”

“Mmm desperate already, Mister Holmes.” 

The power’s limitless inside of me. I feel the energy rising. I can overtake anything. I’m sending a raven with blood on its wings hoping it reaches you in time and you know what it means. Cause out here in the darkness and out of the light. If you get to me too late just know that I tried

I obliged, pulling them off in an agonizingly slow pace, before Sherlock reached up, tangling his fingers in my hair, tugging lightly. He growled. “Please do hurry.”

“I will take as much time as I need. You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you? Good boys will be rewarded for their behavior.”

Sherlock’s jaw slackened, but no words came out as I rocked my hips against him a breathless moan escaping my lips. “Such a good boy,” I mumbled, sliding a finger down his cheekbone lazily, before diving down to nip at his neck.”You’re going to pay for every single time you’ve broken my heart.” 

His pupils dilated with each accelerated movement, my tongue swiping in an intolerably slow pace against his pale skin. “Fuck.” 

“My, my, such language. It’ll be alright my love. It’s just the price you pay for hurting me so many goddamned times. Now, be a good boy, lest you want to be on your knees the rest of the night.” I wrapped my hand around his shoulder for support, panting as I placed another kiss to his pulsing neck. 

Oh oh. Rushing through my veins. Oh oh

“You’re impossible.”

“All another reason why to have you screaming my name all night. Mycroft can’t interrupt us this time.” 

I proceeded to nip down his chest, raking my hands through every sculpted part of his chest, until they stopped at the intended destination. Sherlock’s eyes bore into mine, pressing his lips together, eyes flickering with anticipation. His growing need was evident as I reached out for the drawstring of his pajama pants, and easily discarded them, daring to reach my hand to grasp his throbbing member. I tried to hide my growing smirk, but one pleading look from Sherlock was all I needed to confirm he was wrapped around my finger. 

Without another word, I removed his boxers, aligning his pulsing member with my soaking core. “That’s my good boy. So ready for me.” I murmured, before burying him inside me. We both moaned at the sensation and I threw my head back in ecstasy.

The air is cold, the night is long. I feel like I might fade into the dawn, fade until I’m gone.

Sherlock withered beneath me, daring to stroke his hands against the apex of my thighs, making me shudder in delight. “Do it again, detective.” He obliged, his thumb making contact with my bundle of sensitive nerves, drawing out the most obscene moans. 

“Oh there…” I was cut off with another moan and in an instant a full fledge force flipped me into the indented mattress where Sherlock had been a meer moments before, his eyes lit up with insatiable hunger.

Ooh superhuman. No illusion. Superhuman. Ooh superhuman. No illusion. Superhuman. 

“You are going to pay for this, dear.”

I grinned from underneath his iron embrace. “Oh I know, Mister Holmes, but I’ll still make you pay tenfold for breaking my soul.”

“Want to bet on it?”

“You’ll have to see yourself in the morning and count. I’m sure your neck will disagree,” I smirked, draping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His breath hitched. “Prove me wrong.”

“Oh, believe me husband, I will.” 

So far from home…

Not where I belong…

I’m so far from home..

**Author's Note:**

> I have joined in with @deepestfirefun writing challenge for January (via Tumblr). I hope you enjoy these fics with the one and only Consulting Detective (:


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